


Dean's Christmas Mission

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [70]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Dean/Cas Secret Santa, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Parents Castiel & Dean Winchester, Schmoop, Secret Santa, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: Dean was determined make Christmas amazing this year—especially for his and Castiel's new baby, Jack. They had just adopted Jack from an abusive household, and the boy had yet to even smile. Not even his big sisters Claire and Emma could get him to crack a grin.But Dean had a mission, and maybe quality time with the family, along with some wonderful Christmas traditions, would spark a miracle to happen.





	Dean's Christmas Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theimportanceofbeingvictoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria/gifts).



> Thank you so much to my beta reader, Patrcolvs!
> 
> I was fulfilling the prompt "Dean and Cas getting snuggly on Christmas morning with their brand new baby. This means pjs, watching the snowfall, hot cocoa. Could be canon or AU." 
> 
> I hope you like it!

Dean was determined to pull out all the stops for Christmas this year. His family, including their new baby, deserved it. 

So, as soon as Thanksgiving wrapped up, he made a to-do list with several goals in mind:

  * Spread the Christmas cheer
  * Start new Winchester traditions
  * Give everyone a chance to bond with the baby
  * Get said baby to smile



Jack was the latest addition to Dean and Castiel’s family. He wasn’t exactly expected, though Castiel had always wanted a son in addition to their two adopted daughters, five-year-old Claire and three-year-old Emma. 

At a little over a year old, Jack had come to them a few months prior, after Child and Family Services retrieved him from an abusive household, treated him to make sure he was fit for a new start, and officially put him up for adoption. When Castiel—a stay-at-home dad and writer—learned of Jack from a friend, he couldn’t say no.

“It was like he called out to me for help,” Castiel said, after he and Dean drove home from their first meeting with Jack. 

Dean was a little hesitant in the beginning, but couldn’t deny the connection Jack and his husband seemed to share. Though the baby didn’t do much but stare, his gaze had never left Castiel’s face in the whole hour they spent together. Dean knew right then and there that Jack would be theirs. 

The only problem, though, after the adoption went through, was that Jack didn’t emote at all. He barely cried, and he never laughed or even smiled. Dean and Castiel had taken him to the doctor in a panic at his oddly somber behavior compared to their daughters at that age, and the woman offered a sad smile before telling them that this sometimes happened with babies who’d lived through trauma. Dean and Castiel just needed to be patient with their new son, and give him all the reason in the world to believe he was safe and loved now that he was with his new family.

That part wasn’t difficult. Jack was an easy baby overall, and his strange intensity reminded Dean of Castiel in more ways than one, which was beyond endearing. He couldn’t help but think Jack was meant for them in all the moments he witnessed Castiel and Jack together, playing quietly until glancing up at Dean with the same squinty expression. If he didn’t know better, he would say Jack was Castiel’s biological son, and Dean loved him all the more for it.

Then there were the girls. Claire was ‘too old for babies,’ and didn’t pay Jack much mind, but Emma would’ve loved him to death if she could. She’d always been fascinated with babies—’baby’ was even her first word. So when they introduced Claire and Emma to their new baby brother, Emma squealed and pounced at him. Jack didn’t know what to make of her, but once Dean and Castiel finally got through to her (” _Gentle_ , Em,  _gentle_!”) he learned to tolerate her strong feelings. 

Emma adored caring for him. She demanded to help feed him, and loved pushing him in his swing. Dean had even teared up when he caught her singing a lullaby to Jack’s sleeping form before blowing him a kiss. Jack and Emma were two years apart in age, and Dean hoped that this closeness now would result in a strong sibling relationship in the future. 

And while Claire liked to pretend aloofness when it came to Jack, even she liked to hold him sometimes, and rock him in her lap. She would also read to him, or tell him silly stories she’d made up about kids in her class at kindergarten. Jack still didn’t smile, but he would stare at her with those big eyes of his, soaking in every word. 

This was their first Christmas as a full family of five, and Dean wanted to make it special.  

Step one on the list? Uncle Bobby’s house, to cut down their very own Christmas tree. Dean requested time off work—or rather, he told Sandover he wasn’t doing any spreadsheets this weekend—so he and Castiel packed up the kids, strapped them in their car seats, and drove to Bobby’s.

The kids were antsy by the time they arrived, except for baby Jack, Zen master. He simply observed everyone and everything while sucking his thumb. Dean was curious to know Bobby’s reaction to him, since they hadn’t met each other yet.

Castiel scooped up Jack while Dean herded the girls to the house. The air was cold, and their boots crunched on the snow. Emma, as usual, shrieked Bobby’s name loud enough for the old man to throw open the door long before they got to his porch. She raced ahead to tackle his knees, followed closely by Claire in a competition that had the both of them vying for Bobby’s attention in a clamor of noise. 

Dean rolled his eyes as they chattered, non-stop.

Bobby humored them of course, the old teddy bear. “Alright, alright, that all sounds great. But go on now, get inside where it’s warm. Go say hi to Rumsfeld.”

The girls disappeared inside, eager to pet his dog, while Dean and Castiel approached. 

Bobby grinned at them, his breath frosting in the air. “And look what the cat dragged in.”

Dean swooped in for a hug with Bobby, then the old man turned to Castiel and his smile widened—if possible for the soft grump. 

“And here must be your new little man. Hello, boy. I’m your uncle Bobby.”

In Castiel’s arms, Jack stared at Bobby, assessing, before he hid his face against Castiel’s neck.

“Oh, now, don’t be like that,” Bobby said, but Jack didn’t budge.

Dean rubbed Jack’s back. “He takes some time to get used to strangers.”

“Don’t blame the poor fella, from what you told me.” Bobby nodded. “Cas. Good to see ya. How ya holding up?”

Castiel readjusted Jack in his grip. “Oh, I’m fine. Busy, of course, now that we’re outnumbered, but you know.” His chapped lips twitched into a smile. This was the kind of busy that Castiel loved, Dean knew. It was why Jack became a part of their family so quickly after they’d found him. 

Bobby led them inside and closed the door. “So what do you think? Is three it for kids, or will you be going for more?”

A crash echoed from deeper in the house, along with the rising pitch of the girls yelling at each other. 

Dean sighed. “I think three’s good for now, yeah.” He exchanged a look with Castiel, who grinned. 

“We’ll see.”

“Oh really?” Dean scoffed, but left to go solve his daughters’ situation before it got out of hand. 

Thankfully, the girls calmed enough to have lunch. In fact, they ate better here than at home, where Dean had to practically force-feed them. But this was the magic of Bobby’s, and Dean was amazed when both Claire and Emma managed to eat a few carrot sticks without prompting.

Jack was the only one who put up a minor fuss, which Dean attributed to being in an unfamiliar environment. Jack accepted three mouthfuls of squash before shaking his head and reaching to Castiel with grabby hands. 

“Why’s he scared?” Claire asked, kicking her legs under the table, as Jack clung to Castiel.

Dean’s heart hurt. “You remember what I said before? Jack was in a scary place before coming to live with us, and sometimes he still thinks he’s there, especially when he visits places he’s never been before. We just have to remind him it’s okay, right?”

Emma marched over to Castiel and tugged on Jack’s dangling leg. Jack looked down at her with a sniffle. She offered him a smile, and then a goofy face. “See, Jack? It’s okay here!” She blew a raspberry and hopped around, which didn’t make Jack smile, but did make him stop squirming anxiously. Claire soon joined her, not to be outdone.

“Just look at your silly sisters,” Castiel said. He pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek. “What good big sisters they are, and Emma’s right. It’s okay here.”

Jack stuck his thumb in his mouth, calm again. 

When someone cleared their throat, Dean glanced at Bobby, whose eyes were suspiciously moist. Dean passed him a napkin and nodded in solidarity. 

“You got some good kids,” Bobby said after a moment. 

Dean watched the girls entertain Jack. “I know. I’m very lucky.” 

Bobby reached over to pat his hand. “Your dad would be proud of you, you know.”

A lump formed in Dean’s throat. His dad had died a few years ago of cancer, soon after Dean and Castiel brought home Claire. Dean had always wanted to be a the kind of father his dad had been for him.

He coughed to clear the lump, then stood to make an announcement. “If we’re done with lunch, we better get ready to go outside and get our Christmas tree!”

Emma squealed while Claire asked, “Can I cut it down?”

“Only adults can cut down the tree,” Castiel said, rocking Jack. To cut off her moan, he added, “But you can help us choose which one is the best.”

“I’m gonna choose the  _bestest_  one.”

“Me, too!” Emma said.

Claire shoved her. “No,  _I_ get to choose.”

“Don’t push your sister,” Castiel said.

Dean eyed Bobby, who smirked. “Moment over. Time for the real work.”

It took a good half hour for the three adults to wrangle three small children into winter gear. Dean was glad to have Bobby as an extra pair of hands. 

Once bundled up, Dean snapped some quick photos on his phone. He loved seeing the kids all puffed up and flapping around in the snow. Jack was particularly amusing, since he looked like a starfish in his fancy coat. The expression on his face was one of abject resignation, and Dean nearly burst out laughing. 

“Little man, you are something,” he said.

Bobby procured two sleds from his shed—one for the kids to ride in, and a flat one to pull the Christmas tree. Then he handed Castiel an ax and a thick coil of rope. Together, they arranged the kids on the sled, youngest to oldest, and then trundled onto the glistening white field, Rumsfeld barking as he ran along with them. 

The sky was overcast, but the wind thankfully not too strong as their party aimed toward a copse of evergreens on the left side of the property. Bobby had planted a few of the trees, but most of them were wild. Dean hoped they would find a decent-sized one for their living room back home.

Dean checked on the kids as he hauled the sled. Their cheeks were rosy red, and their eyes were watering, but even Jack’s expression had smoothed out to one of wonder. 

Already, this trip was beyond worth the effort.

An hour later, while the kids rolled around in the snow, Castiel and Bobby traded off on chopping down the perfect tree. The selection of it had been quite a process, as Claire and Emma were divided on which one to pick. It was only when Bobby measured the height that they went with Claire’s choice. Her smile was smug while Emma pouted, but Dean focused most on his husband. 

Castiel assumed a careful stance and aimed the ax.

Dean whistled, and Castiel blushed. “Looking good, sweetheart. You should wield an ax more often.” When Castiel lowered the ax to shoot him a look, Dean winked. “A lumberjack after my own heart.”

“Less flirting, more chopping,” Bobby said, and both Dean and Castiel laughed at his gruff tone.

“Daddy, what’s that?” Emma stumbled over the word ‘lumberjack,’ and Dean corrected her.

“Lumberjack. That’s someone who cuts down trees as a job.”

“Is Papa a lumberjack?”

Dean grinned, and caught Castiel’s eye. “Sometimes.”

Castiel just shook his head, fighting a grin.

The tree came down with an anti-climactic whoosh of snow, and Claire and Emma laughed and clapped at the powder that flew into the air. Dean helped gather the kids back together while Bobby and Castiel lashed the evergreen to the other sled. 

Then, they traveled back to the house. To give his husband a break once they arrived, Dean joined Bobby in tying the tree to the roof of their car while Castiel undressed the kids inside. 

After they had the tree secure, Bobby brushed his hands together and blew out a breath. “Jack’s a strange one, ain’t he?”

Dean glanced at the man that was like a second father to him, and knew Bobby wasn’t being mean—he was just making an observation. “That’s what you said about Cas.”

Bobby harrumphed. “Birds of a feather then, eh?”

“More than you know.” 

“You did a good thing, taking him in. He’ll open up. He’s in a good place.” Bobby clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder as they headed into the house. That pesky lump returned to Dean’s throat as warmth filled him. He hoped Bobby was right.

The morning’s excitement resulted in the kids getting tired, and Dean found them falling asleep on the couch in front of a Christmas special on TV. 

“Guess that’s our cue to head home,” he said to Castiel, who strapped a snoozing Jack into his carrier. 

Castiel straightened with a hiss, then rubbed his shoulders. “That took a lot out of me. I could go for a nap myself.” 

“Idjits, there’s a spare room for a reason,” Bobby said as he stomped off the snow from his boots. “Go use it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got things covered here.” Bobby shooed them out, and just before Dean turned to leave with Castiel in tow, he caught the old man giving his kids a fond look. A doting uncle indeed. 

In the bedroom, Dean gave Castiel a quick massage before they both lay down and conked out.

Step one, complete.

* * *

 

They saved the decorations for that night, once the whole family had recharged from their naps and driven back home.

They set up the tree just right, and with Christmas music playing in the background, Dean and Castiel directed the girls in hanging ornaments. On the floor, Jack played with a bell and looked up whenever Emma asked his opinion on the placement of certain ornaments. Her sweet behavior was of course interrupted by Claire, who argued that Emma took her spot. 

“There’s plenty of room on this side,” Dean said, and Claire hopped over to help him cover the side of the tree with candy canes, reindeer, snowmen and a million other tacky or sentimental ornaments he and Castiel had picked up over the years.

Dean’s favorite, by far, was one celebrating his and Castiel’s first Christmas as a married couple. Dean’s younger brother Sam and his wife Eileen had bought them two mice in tuxedos, carrying a banner between them that read ‘Our first Christmas.’ Each year that he placed it on the tree, joy swelled in him. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe Castiel had said yes, and he couldn't imagine what life would be like without his husband and the family they'd created together.

They also had ornaments commemorating Claire and Emma’s first Christmases. Jack had his own ornament, too, though Castiel had wrapped it up for him to open on Christmas morning. Castiel insisted on that, which Dean found a little funny, but well, he couldn’t deny his husband anything really.

After decorating, they snuggled together in holiday pajamas to watch Christmas cartoons. Time was flying by and it was only two more weeks until the big day—Dean couldn’t wait.  

Dean threw an arm around Castiel and breathed in the clean, masculine scent of his deodorant. Castiel glanced over at him and smiled. 

"I love you," Dean said.

"I love you, too."

And with the kids falling asleep to Rudolph, bathed in the soft glow of Christmas lights, step two was complete.

* * *

 

It was while his mom, Mary, was visiting them the following weekend that the third step was achieved. As hopeless as she was with baking, she loved spending time with her grandchildren, and Dean liked having another adult help with something as messy as Christmas cookie decorating.

To say the kitchen quickly became a disaster was accurate. After only a half hour, flour dusted the counter tops, and garishly bright icing stained multiple surfaces. Dirty cookie cutters cluttered the sink, and Dean’s feet crunched on sprinkles that’d fallen on the floor. Still, the smell of sugar cookies wafted through the house, and his mouth watered.

In the kitchen, he smirked at his mom, who was removing a tray of cookies from the oven. She set it on the stove for them to cool.

“You didn’t burn them,” he said, teasing.

Mary removed her oven mitts and swatted him on the arm. “I can bake cookies from a package, thank you very much!” She grinned sheepishly. “And I read the directions  _very_ carefully.”

Dean faced the girls, who stood on stepping stools next to each other, bent over the counter to decorate their cooled masterpieces.

“That one should be white,” Claire said, as she pointed a sticky finger at a slightly deformed angel cookie.

“With red sprinkles?” Emma asked, craning her neck.

“Yeah!”

Dean leaned close to his mom as they both watched the girls. “What is this insanity? They’re  _getting along_? I thought for sure there’d be cookies flying everywhere by now.”

Mary patted her nose. “It’s a Grandma secret. I’ll never tell.” 

“You bribed them, didn’t you?”

Castiel entered the kitchen with a red-faced Jack on his hip. Jack sniffled, clearly upset. 

“Oh no sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Mary asked as she offered her hands to Jack.

“Want to go see Grandma?” Castiel asked him.

Jack whimpered, but accepted the transfer easily enough. Mary bounced him lightly as Castiel joined Dean at the counter.

“Mmm. These look good. And  _you_  made them, Mary?”

She huffed at Castiel, who grinned.

Jack perked up in their company, and Dean guessed that he’d been lonely away from all the excitement of his sisters and grandmother. Eventually, they set Jack in his highchair to play with a ball of raw cookie dough. The instant his fingers squished the dough, his mouth dropped open and he let out a pleased burble. 

So while Castiel took out his phone and the girls posed dramatically for pictures—complete with matching Christmas aprons—Jack remained absorbed with squeezing and pressing and smashing the dough. He also tried to put it in his mouth, but Dean jumped in to bat it away in the nick of time. 

Mary warmed some milk for hot cocoa, and once the decorations were done, they all settled down to enjoy the warm drink with the ‘reject’ cookies, meaning the ones the girls deemed ‘unpretty.’ Most of these were the cookies heaped with frosting and sprinkles in no discernible design—just an overload of sugar. Claire and Emma gobbled down their cookies in record time, icing smeared on their lips and in Emma’s case, her hair. 

“I’ll give them a bath,” Mary said, after Castiel groaned that he’d just gotten them clean last night.

“Good luck with that,” Dean said, sharing a look with his husband. Claire was fine, but Emma hated baths with a passion rivaling little else in her young life.

The excitement of having their grandmother there, plus the sweet treats, meant the kids were hyped up for the rest of the afternoon and didn’t settle down even for dinner. Only Jack ate, since the girls complained that they weren’t hungry except for more cookies. 

“No more until tomorrow,” Dean said, and he suffered through a chorus of high-pitched moaning as Claire pouted and Emma threw herself on the floor to beat her fists on the tile. It wasn’t until he and Castiel said that she might end up on the naughty list that she behaved enough to take a bath and get into her jammies along with her sister. 

With Mary reading the kids bedtime stories, Dean curled up with Castiel on the couch downstairs. His husband closed his eyes, and Dean rubbed his fingers over the bristly stubble on his chin. Castiel leaned into his touch and sighed.

“You think Jack’s having a good holiday so far?” Dean asked.

“Mmm.”

“You think he’ll ever smile?”

“Mmm.”

Dean grinned. “You think you’re ready for bed?” He leaned forward to press a kiss to Castiel’s lips, and Castiel smiled into it before cupping Dean’s face in his hands. 

Their kisses were slow and chaste—a reminder of the love that connected them. Dean ended with his forehead pressed against Castiel’s and their breaths mingling. The house was so quiet this time of night.

“You already broke into the eggnog, huh?” Dean asked, after a moment.

Castiel wrinkled his nose. “I like eggnog, and it’s only available this time of year.”

“I was saving that for Christmas Day, you know.”

“We can always buy more.” 

Dean chuckled and sucked on Castiel’s neck, eliciting another sigh. “We can have more now, with alcohol.” He bit gently, and Castiel gasped. “But you’ll have to stay awake.”

On the edge of a groan, Castiel said, “Yes, yes I think I can manage that.”

* * *

 

The fourth and final step, Christmas morning, started far earlier than Dean was planning. Seeing as he and Castiel had stayed up late to plant the gifts under the tree, the fact that both Claire and Emma jumped into their bed just after dawn made him want to burrow under the covers and not move for a few more hours. He knew Castiel felt the same if not worse, since Jack had trouble falling asleep and barely let Castiel leave the room before crying out for him again.

But Christmas was Christmas, and the excitement radiating from the girls stirred Dean into action. A smile brightened his face as he imagined his kids’ reactions to their gifts. He shooed Claire and Emma downstairs and told them to sort their presents. After they scrambled away, he pecked his husband on the cheek. 

“Morning. I got breakfast.”

Castiel grumbled into his pillow.

“And coffee.”

Castiel shifted to face him, his hair sticking up at angles. He blinked open one eye. 

Dean leaned in for one more kiss before swatting Castiel on the ass and getting dressed. 

As Dean made pancake batter and heated up the griddle, the girls dug through the mound of presents and separated them into piles. Then, as Dean had taught them, they shook some of the gifts and tried to guess what was inside. Dean chuckled to himself at their silly guesses.

An hour later, everyone was eating breakfast at the table. The smell of coffee lingered on the air, as well as the sweet tang of maple syrup, while the new morning sun shone through the windows. Despite a lack of sleep, they were all in a good mood—even Jack, who seemed content as he made a mess of his food. 

Once Dean and Castiel cleaned up first the kids and then the table, Dean turned on the TV to the Christmas Yule Log, which was a video of a crackling fireplace with holiday music playing in the background. With the soft music filtering from the speakers and the lights from their Christmas tree shining on them, they began unwrapping presents one at a time, though Emma couldn’t be bothered to wait and ended up ripping off the paper of not only her gifts, but also Jack’s, as she promised to help him. 

In the ensuing chaos, there were flying bows and ribbons, squeals and shrieks of delight, and frantic hugs and kisses. Castiel smacked a bow on Dean’s head, then reeled him in by his shirt for a quick but loving kiss. To Dean, the gifts themselves didn’t matter; it was his family that meant everything to him, and so far, this Christmas was perfect—except for one thing.

And then it happened. 

Castiel had been doing some reading, and decided to introduce Jack to chocolate as a special Christmas surprise. One of his gifts therefore was a bar of natural dark chocolate.

Castiel broke off a small segment and fed it to Jack, who went completely still as the candy melted on his tongue.

Claire and Emma stopped playing and froze, staring at Jack, waiting for his reaction. Dean slowly reached for his husband, unsure if they needed to call somebody. Maybe Jack was allergic to chocolate. The thought had his stomach cramping with fear until the most wonderful miracle occurred. 

Jack’s face split into a huge grin, and he let out a giggle that turned into full-blown laughter. 

“He likes it!” Claire said to break the spell, dancing and clapping in celebration.

Emma plopped down in front of Jack to give him a sloppy kiss and hug. “Yum, yum, yum, right?”

Jack grinned at her and waved his arms, babbling.

With hands on her hips, Claire turned to Castiel, who remained unmoving, apparently still shocked. “Papa, I think Jack needs more chocolate.”

Castiel nodded, and seemingly in a daze, broke off another small piece that he gave to Jack. More laughter burbled out of the baby, and this time, it set them all to chuckling and giggling with him. 

Dean couldn’t resist hefting his son into the air and spinning him around as he laughed and laughed. 

Castiel stopped him with a hand on his arm, then tugged Dean and Jack in for a hug. 

“Merry Christmas, Jack,” Castiel said. “Ooph,” he added as Claire and Emma slammed into his legs to join the hug.

“And welcome to the family,” Dean said to Jack, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. 

“Yeah, welcome!” Claire said.

“You’re the best baby brother,” Emma said, and Dean’s vision blurred with joyful tears.

It was the best Christmas they had ever had, and the best he could’ve ever hoped for.

Mission success.


End file.
